


His Queen, His Wife, His Calanthe

by CaptainWeasley



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: F/M, Femdom, First Time, Happy Sex, Light Dom/sub, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Wedding Night, all women in the witcher peg, but calanthe is on a whole other level, has she ever had piv sex?, it's less likely than you think, written in pretentious prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:28:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24961582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainWeasley/pseuds/CaptainWeasley
Summary: She is a lioness in the bedroom, just like on the battlefield. She rules her bed like she does her army, with a firm hand, and strength, and pride. Eist does not mind, quite the contrary. He had always pictured her thus, had expected it, and hoped for it, as well.
Relationships: Calanthe Fiona Riannon/Eist Tuirseach
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	His Queen, His Wife, His Calanthe

Eist can still hardly believe that Calanthe said yes—that she actually agreed to marry him. Can still hardly believe that she went through with it, too, her eyes shining brightly as they took their vows, her face regal and proud as always, her posture that of a warrior.

What he can believe, what is actually the least surprising aspect of this whole day, is that she is a lioness in the bedroom, just like on the battlefield. That she rules her bed like she does her army, with a firm hand, and strength, and pride. Eist does not mind, quite the contrary. He had always pictured her thus, had expected it, and hoped for it, as well.

So when she orders him to undress, he does as his Queen commands, at once and without question. He would die for her in a heartbeat, she need only give the word, and he would lay down his life for his Queen happily and without regret.

She tells him to help her out of her garments, and he does so, his fingers lingering on her soft skin, his lips peppering her exposed shoulders with kisses. Her dress is heavy, like armor, and she steps out of it with poise, as though she were commanding the very air around her. Eist wants to worship her on his knees, the way she deserves, wants to be led by her, consumed by her, protected by her. When she orders him to kiss her, he complies, and he relishes every moment his lips touch hers, it is an honor to be so close to her.

Calanthe's hands explore his body, unhurriedly, but there is a hitch in her breath when she strokes his manhood, and Eist can feel her fast beating heart, and he smiles against her lips.

"Have you ever had a cock inside you, my husband?"

Her whisper is beautiful, and lewd, and it sends a shiver down his back.

"No, my Queen."

Calanthe smiles softly, a sparkle in her eyes.

"Well then, someone will be losing their virginity tonight, after all," she muses. "Who would have thought?"

Eist can't help but laugh at that, and he is looking forward to what she promises: being ravished by his Queen, giving her what he has never given anyone else, it feels so right. Calanthe smiles at him in return, gives him a gentle kiss.

"Touch me first," she commands.

He helps her settle down on the bed. His Queen knows how she likes to be touched, and she shows him, teaches him so that he may serve her better, and Eist treasures these instructions as though they are state secrets—they are, in a way.

Her body is gorgeous, hardy and strong from her years of fighting, but also wonderfully soft in some places. He kisses her scars, of which there are quite a few, hard-earned in battle, and he would not have her any other way. 

She allows him to pleasure her with his tongue and his fingers, until she shakes and moans and cries in wild abandon, and Eist thanks the Gods that destiny led him to this moment, this woman, this Queen. Giving her pleasure is the most exquisite thing he has ever known, and all the years of his life seem to pale in comparison to Calanthe, her smell, her taste, her voice, her fingers in his hair, her shaking legs, her warmth, her smile, her love.

She tells him to hold her, afterwards, and his Queen turns soft and vulnerable in his arms, just for a short while, just for him. It is the greatest wedding gift she could give him.

"I want to take your virginity now," she says with a smile when her strength has returned to her. "Would you like that?"

"Yes," he answers at once. "Yes, I would."

She owns several cocks of different sizes, and she shows him her favorite.

"I think we should start smaller, though. Work our way up to it."

She selects a different one.

"I'm not afraid, my Queen. I will take whatever you give me."

She looks at him, gently, with caring affection in her eyes.

"I would rather hear you screaming _more, more_ in pleasure than hear you whisper _too much, too much_ in pain."

Eist understands. He kisses her temple, and she leans into his touch, a smile playing about her lips.

She shows him how she likes to fasten the leather straps around her hips, so he can do this for her in the future, if she so wishes. Calanthe straightens up when she is finished, and a shudder passes through Eist, seeing his Queen with a hard cock between her legs. The sight makes his stomach feel full of butterflies, and he had not thought it possible for him to love her even more than he already did, but here Calanthe is, blazing through the bounds of possibility like it is nothing, the woman who tries to defy destiny by sheer force of will. He is a little nervous, too, this is his first time after all—but he trusts her with his life, body and soul, and he wants her to fuck him, he wants that so very much.

"Lie back, my husband," she commands, "I will start with my fingers."

He likes the scent of the oil she uses, there's a subtle sweetness in it that reminds him of her. He might have smelled it on her before, never knowing what she used it for until tonight. Another one of her secrets, no: one of their secrets, now. One of their shared secrets as husband and wife. Eist smiles.

Her fingers feel strange at first, but Eist soon finds he likes the sensation, it is unlike anything he's ever felt. He is giving her a part of himself that nobody else has ever touched or known. 

The pleasure he is feeling is different as well, every time her fingertips brush that certain spot inside him he is overcome by an acute wave of arousal, and he never knew, never suspected that this might be possible... She is wise, his Queen, his wife, his Calanthe, much wiser than him, skilled in manipulating his body in this way, he could not have dreamed of a more perfect wedding night. 

"Tell me what you want, my husband."

"I want you, my Queen... I need you... Please, I need you inside me!"

She smiles and kisses him. She coats her cock in the subtly sweet oil, she spreads his legs and he takes her free hand in his own, intertwines their fingers. 

She fills him, slowly, pushes into him, and Eist can't help the moan falling from his lips. He looks at Calanthe's face, strong and yet gentle, and he loves her even more in this moment.

Her eyes meet his, and he is once again reminded why she is called the lioness: there is a fierce strength inside her, and her enemies know that she is merciless against them, defends her home and her people with iron determination. But Eist also sees something else tonight: that the lioness is caring with those she loves, and gentle when she wishes, and that she can smile in a way that makes her eyes go soft, so very soft. She keeps holding his hand, brings it up to her mouth and kisses his knuckles.

"My Queen," Eist breathes, "my Queen."

She does not hurry. There is no reason to hurry, not tonight. She starts slowly, almost too slowly, and he wants to beg her to go faster, but stops himself. They have all the time in the world tonight.

Calanthe gives pleasure slowly, and with great care, until he is moaning and whining, helpless, completely at her mercy. She is gorgeous and mighty, she is hard and unyielding, she is loving and gentle. 

She is everything.

And Eist cries _faster, faster_ , sighs _more, more_ , moans _my Queen, my Calanthe_. 

Time has stopped existing. Or maybe it never existed at all. The universe is her, her beauty and her might, her warmth and her smile, her lips and her hands and her cock and her eyes, he never wants to look anywhere but into those eyes, burning from within.

Eist has never known pleasure like this, in all the years of his life never suspected that it could be like this, that it could consume him so completely. And in a way he is glad. Because Calanthe is the only person he wants to share this with, the only one who gets to see him like this, gets to take him apart so wholly, the only person he trusts without reserve.

His pleasure feels like he is tumbling over an edge, joyfully falling for miles and miles, safe in the knowledge that his Queen will catch him, that she will be waiting for him on the other side. And she is there, as he'd known she would be, in all her glory, in all her might, inside him, above him, all around him, her skin burning hot against his, both their hearts beating fast.

He can see the delight on her face as her own pleasure overtakes her, can hear her groan, can feel her shudder, and he is overcome by awe, amazed by the privilege of being married to her, his Queen, his wife, his Calanthe.

"I love you," he whispers, "I love you with all my heart."

She slips out of him, then takes him into her arms, and they lie together for a long time in silence. Eist listens to her breathing, focuses on the feeling of her heart beating against his chest, the little movements of her body, and her scent is all around him, he does not need anything more. She is enough, more than enough, more than he had ever dared to dream, she is everything.

They smile at each other, after a while, and kiss each other softly, and Calanthe follows the lines of his face with the tips of her fingers, slowly, unhurriedly. 

"So," he says later, never one to pass up a challenge, "you think I'm ready for a bigger cock?"

This makes Calanthe laugh, little crinkles around her eyes, and Eist laughs as well. Laughing in the arms of his wife is almost his favorite thing. The only thing that's better is the one they already did, on this their wedding night.

When she has finished laughing, Calanthe smiles wickedly at him, making his spine tingle.

"Tomorrow, my husband, I promise."


End file.
